"Someday" & "Seeing White Horn Brook" by Andy Perrin

Someday

In one thousand years

(if I can wait that long)

I shall reemerge as the

red-winged blackbird

I wrote about clinging to

the tall bended grasses

and flitting about the

summer-sweet’s branches.

I will land on a small book

which someone left behind

on a stone beachside bench.

I will turn to the very page

where I wrote about me

and read each word again

as though for the first time.

Seeing White Horn Brook

Behind the house flows White Horn Brook,

but the underbrush guards its banks.

Unfair I can’t walk through the woods

to witness the wondrous clear purl.

Good fortune I have to live close

by a weather grayed sturdy bridge

that crosses over the slow brook

just a short pleasant walk away.

From the rails of that perfect bridge

I have seen all that little brook

has carried from the upstream flow

through the woods and onward downstream.

I’ve often gazed down into the

eyes of the old man staring up

from the mirrored smooth brook below

who stared back through me with wonder

into the depths of the vast clear

sky blue universe up above

knowing White Horn Brook carried him

to me and me to him those days.

Andy Perrin is a writer/photographer/cyclist/teacher from southern Rhode Island. Andy often explores the roads and trails near his home on one of his bikes. On occasion, while he is out exploring, he is moved to stop to take a photo of some inspirational thing. On the best days, the thoughts of the things photographed turn into words and the subjects of his writing.